The chamberlain, Brady, called across the table, softly as he could and be heard, "We also still have a treasury surplus – or am I mistaken?"
"If there's a time to spend," Sam said, speaking up, "it's when a knife is at your throat."
"Oh, understood, milord." The treasurer smiled. "But perhaps in your… realm, barter still holds a place. In Middle Kingdom, it's cold cash, silver or gold."
"And mostly in mine, as well." Sam smiled back. "Though sheep and stock are occasionally traded… When our Charles Ketch posed the same question to me that you bring to the table, Treasurer, I told him what I now tell you: Spend the fucking money. And if more is needed later, the Emperor will provide it."
"The Emperor?" General DeVane again. The general, slightly fat, was an amiable-looking man, except for his eyes. They were dead black as dug coal-rock. "Now why should Rosario e Vega send any treasure to your people, or ours?"
"Because, General, once we win this war he will either send us gold and silver, if we need it, or we will go down to South Map-Mexico and ask again."
Both admirals said, "Piracy!" speaking almost together, and seemed pleased with the notion.
DeVane said nothing, only stared at Sam a moment, then nodded. Pedro had mentioned that the DeVanes of Baton Rouge still ate talking meat at festivals…
"Well," Sloan said, "that may be, then. This is now."
"Harvey," the Queen said, "shut up."
As if a voice in his head had said, "Keep Harvey Sloan," Sam determined to do it, whenever that choice was his. A Charles Ketch, but tougher, slower to back off where income and outgo were concerned.
"Monroe…" General Parker, uniformed in blue wool, was a strikingly handsome man, tall, with clear blue eyes and perfectly graying hair perfectly trimmed. "Monroe, I confess to some puzzlement why you, rather than Her Majesty, called this meeting, for which senior officers were threatened with arrest for non-attendance. I'm curious where you found the authority for that – and why now you're in council on matters concerning Middle Kingdom, particularly since no announcement has been made appointing you to command of anything."
"I'll make that announcement, General." Princess Rachel spoke quietly, and did not look at Sam. "Lord Monroe and I have agreed on an engagement to marriage. Also, he has my mother's warrant to pursue this war as commander, whenever his own forces are involved."
"Which," the Queen said, "will be in every important decision. If I thought, Parker, this occasionally annoying young man was a fool, he would already be on his way down-river with my foot up his ass."
Sam saw Rachel begin to smile, then stop. She said, "Are matters now clear to you, General?"
"Absolutely clear, Highness." He turned to Sam with a slight bow. "Milord."
"Generals," Sam said, "Admirals and Lords, Chamberlain, Master Sloan – I'm well aware it can't be comfortable to have a stranger come up from the south and stick his nose into what was only your business. I do it for two reasons. First, what happens to Middle Kingdom in this war will determine what happens to North Map-Mexico. And second, I have found no one better qualified for the work. I am, if you'll permit me, not 'Extraordinary' in anything but battle. There, though no Toghrul Khan, I am very competent."
"And better be." General Bailey shifted in his seat. "Joan, these damn chairs…"
"Want a cushion?" The Queen seemed concerned. "You being so old and frail."
"I see you have cushions…"
"Peter, I'm the Queen. Of course I have cushions. Now, do you have anything to contribute here beyond complaints about your backside?"
"What I have to contribute, is congratulations to our young commander on the performance of his army, since he is apparently too modest to announce it. Word, likely from creek fishermen out of Map-El Dorado, was pigeoned from one of Her Majesty's ships off Greenville, and received here a little more than a glass-hour ago. It appears his man, Voss, has brought their cavalry divisions east to join North Mexico's army near Bossier City. That force is moving north as we speak, and will soon be within striking distance of the Khan's only lines of supply and reinforcement."
"Good news," DeVane said, "if it's followed by more good news."
"My army will be where it's supposed to be – and without delay," Sam said. "Losing St. Louis leaves us little time."
"You have great confidence in your people." The smaller admiral, Hopkins, had lost the tip of his nose in some engagement.
"I have the same, Admiral, that you must have in your veteran captains. But my army can only threaten from the south, until both the Fleet and East-bank army are on the ice below St. Louis… Then, as the Kipchaks face a fresh force attacking in the north, across the river, so they will also face an advance severing their lines of supply in the south. The Khan will have to divide his army and fight both of us at once, unless he chooses an harassed retreat of almost a thousand Warm-time miles to West Map-Texas… likely never to return."
"From your lips, to Weather's wind." General Lenihan frowned. "But the Fleet seems to me to be in question. East-bank army will move; Aiken already has skirmishers out on the ice. But no pigeon has mentioned ships of the line sailing up to meet him. And unless there are warships skating through those tumans with scorpions and pitch-throwers, the East-bank army will be swamped just as the West-bankers were."
"It will be news to the army, I'm sure," Admiral Hopkins said, "that warships must be careened to fit with runners. This can be done by the crews, but cannot be done properly in less than a day."
"If this had been planned… had been started earlier – "
"Lenihan," – the larger admiral, Pearce, seemed to swell in his seat – "if the Fleet had been advised earlier, you would have seen ships rigged earlier. We can do only what we're told to do at the time. We hadn't expected West-bank army to lose St. Louis!"
"And where were their reinforcements? Where was the fucking Fleet – down in the Gulf playing grab-ass with some row-boat pirates!"
"Am I to take that as personal, Lenihan? As a personal remark?"
"You are not, Admiral!" Sam had thought the Queen would interfere, then saw she was watching him, waiting. "There will be nothing personal in these discussions. We have no time for it. If any officer feels offended, he is free to come complain to me… then regret it."
Silence.
"Admirals, at least sixty warships are to be ice-rigged within the next five days, or there will be more energetic admirals commanding them… And general officers will keep their mouths shut about Fleet matters – of which they are largely ignorant – and prepare to support Aiken's East-bank army with any and all personnel and supplies they require."
"Sir, we do not commingle – "
"I understand, Parker, that it hasn't been the custom to transfer troops and equipment from one bank army to the other, though it appears that General Lenihan has been making an attempt at coordination. Still, I know that complete separation of the bank armies has been the rule – and when we win this war, if Middle Kingdom is more comfortable with that situation, it may be reinstated. Now, however, it no longer holds."
There was a little stir around the table. Muttering.
"I will have any supply or maintenance officer, or officer commanding, who withholds troops or equipment or rations from any engaged unit of either bank army, court-martialed, convicted, and hanged… To which end, from this meeting onward, the generals provost-marshal in both armies are united into one command – to be armored in red – under whichever officer is senior, to enforce this order without hesitation… There will be no appeals from his judgment."